


having opened doors that were previously closed, bros

by CyrusBreeze



Series: The Other 51 [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Other, Polyamory, discussions, idk what to tag this, light homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 03:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: Two men walk into a room diametrically opposed, foes. They emerge with a compromise.How Burr and Hamilton came to a compromise.





	having opened doors that were previously closed, bros

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises about the quality of this. Half of this was written at 2a in the library when I was _supposed_ to be finishing my essay for my Development of Individual Family Relationships class. The other half was written during my English class, which _teachnically_ has a laptop ban. (Yes, I abuse my OALA accommodations, but it’s a departmental rule and my teacher could care less about us using electronics. I’m technically the only one “allowed” to have my laptop in class, but everyone uses theirs). It was edited while in the car on the way to a Quidditch Tournament (did I mention I get severe motion sickness?). In any case, this fic was brought to you by Mt. Dew, chocolate cookie butter, Dramamine, and Taco Bell. 
> 
> As far as triggers go: Aaron is a homophobic piece of shit, no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. This is in his POV. There’s also some polyphobia? and the tiniest bit of bi/panphobia. Other than that, conversion therapy is implied/referenced. And infidelity is mentioned (on Burr’s part).

“We shouldn’t talk here,” Aaron said, gesturing to the room around him. “The walls most likely have ears.” 

Hamilton snorted. “A man that voted for the revision of the Patriot Act is concerned about the walls having ears; that’s ironic.” Hamilton pulled out his phone and began fiddling with it, most likely ordering them an Uber. 

“We can go to my house,” Aaron suggested. He, too, pulled out his phone, preparing to order them a better Uber. Hamilton seemed like the type to be frugal with his money. 

Hamilton shook his head. “I’d rather not know where you live, in case I get the urge to, you know, murder you in your sleep.” 

Aaron rolled his eyes. Hamilton’s immaturity rubbed him the wrong way. And the man wanted to run for President? There was no way he would win against Trump. Not that Trump was the epitome of maturity or anything. “Where are we going, then?” Aaron asked. “I’m assuming your wife and children are at your home.” 

“I have an apartment in D.C. for when either John or I work late nights and don’t want to drive all the way back home if we’re extremely tired,” Hamilton explained. “John works at National Children Health System, and it’s easier for him to crash there than to drive the hour home when he’s sleep deprived.”

“Why are you telling me about your rent boy?” Aaron demanded, huffing. He honestly had no desire to hear about Hamilton’s sexual preferences.

“I’m humanizing him and our relationship.” Hamilton's phone pinged. “Our Lyft is here.” 

“You use Lyft?” Aaron arched his eyebrow. He hated Lyft, one too many bad rides. 

Hamilton stood, stretching as he did so. “For one, Lyft is cheaper, and for two, Lyft didn’t take advantage of the lack of taxis traveling from JFK.” 

Aaron rolled his eyes and Hamilton simply turned, shouldered his briefcase, and walked out. 

It took Aaron a moment, but he followed. 

The Lyft ride to the apartment was dead silent. They could’ve walked, considering that the apartment was less than a mile away, but Aaron was exhausted and realized that Hamilton probably was as well. They arrived at the apartment five minutes later. They were nice, making Aaron wonder how Hamilton could afford rent on an apartment and a mortgage for his massive home in McLean. It was a foolish thought, Aaron realized as they entered the building, considering that Hamilton’s household had three healthy incomes and his father-in-law was one of the toughest businessmen on Wall Street. They took the elevator to the top floor, because of course Hamilton was flashy and showy with his money. It was a nice apartment complex, and Burr made a mental note to consider it if he and Betty every decided to move from their townhome.

Hamilton unlocked his door with a key fob and opened the door. Burr followed him inside. 

John, if Burr remembered his name correctly, was sitting at the table in the studio apartment. The apartment was small, just a table and chairs in the dining area and then a small, full sized bed in the living room. What stuck out however was the massive aquarium facing the bed. There were several turtles swimming around inside of it. It was a nice sized apartment, if a little small.

“Hey,” Alex said to his boyfriend, or partner, or whatever. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” 

The man in question shrugged and then took a bite of the apple he was eating. “I’m leaving in a few minutes,” he said. John stood and tossed his apple in the trash can. “I’m on call until 8 tomorrow.” 

“Drink water,” Hamilton commanded the man, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” John said, but Aaron could hear the teasing tone in his voice. 

It felt familiar, like how he and Theodosia used to tease each other. It was the type of teasing that came of ten or twelve years of marriage. It felt odd, watching it between two men. Aaron wasn’t homophobic, his daughter, Natalie, was bi or pan or whatever sexual. It was just seeing it, between his married colleague and another man that made him shudder.

“I had two bottles of water and a full meal today,” Hamilton said with a grin. 

John just smiled back at Hamilton. “My Lyft is here. I’ll meet you for lunch tomorrow, okay?”

Hamilton grinned wider and then kissed John, on the _lips_. Aaron looked away.

They were so comfortable with each other, and it made Aaron long for Theodosia. He loved Betty, certainly, but sometimes he missed the easy relationship that Theodosia and he had shared. 

“Did you want coffee or anything?” Hamilton asked as John walked out the door.

Aaron shook his head. 

“I would offer you some refreshments, but we rarely ever have food here,” Hamilton continued, opening the refrigerator. 

Aaron craned his neck to get a look. It was bare, except for a few items: mustard, ketchup, cheese, and a bag of Granny Smith apples. Hamilton grabbed an apple from the bag and the walked over to the Keurig.

“You sure you don’t want any coffee?” Hamilton asked. “There’s also green tea and hot chocolate.” 

“Got any whiskey?” Aaron asked. He needed alcohol to take the edge off of this conversation. 

Hamilton snorted. “We don’t keep alcohol here. Like I said, it’s just a place to crash for when we work late. Besides, I think we both need to be present and completely sober for this conversation.” Hamilton placed a K-cup into the Keurig. “So coffee or tea?” 

“I’ll take water,” Aaron sighed. This was quickly becoming his worst nightmare. 

Hamilton grabbed a glass, filled it, and placed it on the table in front of Aaron. 

The Keurig had come to life, spitting out a stream of coffee into Hamilton’s mug. 

Aaron sat, watching the stream of coffee. He enjoyed a cup, but usually in the mornings, and certainly not so late in the evening.

Hamilton grabbed his cup and a small box from the counter. It was coffee creamer and sugar. 

Aaron watch, annoyed, as Hamilton poured in two containers of creamer and four packets of sugar. It was no wonder that the man never seemed to focus during meetings; he was probably in a consistent state of sugar high. Either that, or he just simply preferred to annoy Aaron by pretending not to listen. Aaron knew that it was most likely the latter. Hamilton typically held his sugar well.

Hamilton stirred his coffee. “So, you have a problem with my family.” 

Aaron flinched. When Hamilton put it that way, it made Aaron feel like an ass. “I don’t have a problem with your ‘family,’” he put air quotes around the word family, just to be (and what was it that Theo and Natalie always said?) petty. “I have a problem with the fact that you’re being unfaithful to your wife.” 

Hamilton held his hand up, pulled out his phone, and tapped something into it. 

Aaron waited, trying to peer across the table so that he could see what Hamilton was doing. 

“Unfaithfulness,” Hamilton read. “Is defined as engaging in sexual relations with a person other than one's regular partner in contravention of a previous promise or understanding. John and Eliza are both my regular partners. And even if John wasn’t a regular partner, our relationship is not in contravention of a previous promise or understanding. Eliza and I have discussed, extensively, being polyamorous and our guidelines for relationships.” 

Aaron mulled over Hamilton’s words. “So you’re in an open marriage. Do you have other relationships besides the one who John?” 

“That’s not of your business,” Hamilton said calmly. 

“By not answering my question, you answered my question,” Aaron retorted. He didn’t want to think about the other men, or perhaps women, that Hamilton entertained in his free time. 

Hamilton hummed, ignoring the implications behind Aaron’s words. “So what’s your real issue with me, my wife, and our relationship with John?” Hamilton asked. 

The relationship as a whole made him uncomfortable. Aaron had grown up, in New York City, during the height of the HIV and AIDS crisis. His grandfather had preached vehemently against homosexuality and multiple partners, and it had been drilled into him that their AIDS was punishment for their sin. Aaron had changed his mind when he attended college, but he was still uncomfortable around gay people as a whole. It had taken him months to become comfortable after Natalie had come out. After all, she came out at just 14. 

“It’s wrong,” Aaron blurted out, hoping that those two words could somehow convey his mixed feelings on the matter. “When you get married, you make a commitment to your spouse, and you’re dishonoring it.”

Hamilton looked resigned. “That’s rich coming from the man who began his relationship with his wife before she had even filed for divorce.” 

Aaron huffed. It had been different with Theodosia. They had met when Aaron was in grad school. He was her graduate research assistant on civil rights in comparative politics. Their relationship was explicitly forbidden, but that didn’t stop Aaron from getting to know Theodosia. He quickly learned that she was in the the process of filing for divorce from her emotionally and verbally abusive husband, but that the process had been stalled because her husband was deployed in Sudan, and the state that they had established residency in did not allow a petition for divorce if one spouse was out of the country. They had found solace in each other and their shared life experience: losing their parents at a young age, being raised by abusive guardians, and finding comfort in providing justice for others stuck in terrible situations. Aaron had fallen hard, and fast, and then Jacques Prevost died in combat six months later. 

Aaron was brought back to earth by the sound of fingers tapping on the table. Hamilton was staring at him expectantly. 

“That was different,” Aaron said sharply. “Her husband was abusive, and she was going to file for divorce as soon as he got back. You’re cheating, and you have no plans to reconcile it,” Aaron argued, and he knew that he was grasping at straws, but Hamilton’s relationship was just, it was wrong.

It had been messy, after Prevost’s death, with Aaron wanting to marry Theodosia, especially after they found out that she was pregnant with Theo, and Theodosia’s children, particularly the older ones, hating him with every fiber of their being. 

“I have nothing to reconcile,” Hamilton said. “I am in a committed relationship with two partners. We talk with each other, communicate openly, and are well aware of each other’s relationships.” 

Aaron decided to change tactics. He had no hope of convincing Hamilton to change his ways. It was clear that he had been living in sin for far too long to allow anyone to sway his perspective, but he wanted Hamilton to understand why Aaron would never agree with Hamilton’s lifestyle. “You can’t emotionally devote yourself to two people at the same time,” Aaron argued. “It doesn’t work like that.” 

“Do you love your wife?” Asked Hamilton, taking a long sip of his oversugared coffee.

“Of course,” Aaron said, unsure of where Hamilton was going with this. 

“And you still love Theodosia, right?”  
“Yes,” Aaron answered automatically, without even taking a moment to consider the point that Hamilton was trying to make.

“So, then it’s possible to love two people at once,” Hamilton argued. He drained the remainder of his coffee and set the empty mug on the table.

Aaron took a long drink of his water, swishing the cool liquid in his mouth to avoid answering Hamilton’s question.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he finally answered. “But I love Theodosia in a different way than I love Betty. Theodosia was my first love, and I loved her with a different intensity than I do, Betty. And it’s not that I don’t love Betty as much as I loved Theodosia, but it’s different with Betty. She’s my companion and best friend, and I love her.”

“And I love Eliza and John differently,” Hamilton said. “Eliza was also my first love and the first person I learned to love and trust for the first time in five years. John, on the other hand, is my best friend and my confidant. I love them both equally, but I love them differently, just like you. Why is my life any different?” 

Aaron tried to formulate a response that made sense. Hamilton had a point, but that didn’t make him right. 

“Look,” Hamilton continued. “I know that we’ll never agree on anything, but please take a moment to see things from my perspective. I love my partners.”

Aaron took a deep breath. “I’m willing to take a moment to see your perspective,” he agreed. “But it’s only because I want to be able to know my grandchild.”

“I met John when I was thirteen,” Hamilton began. “We were both in residential treatment. Me, after my foster mother caught me giving head to her golden child, and John after he came out to his father. It wasn’t a great place, places like that never are. John and I were roommates, and I honestly have no idea why they put a bunch of boys who were queer with a bunch of boys who were also queer. Needless to say, John and I ended up getting close, and then I moved back to New York and didn't see him again for two years. And then, as it turned out, John had been kicked out of his dad’s house and forced to live with his aunt in New York City.And John was the one who introduced me to Eliza when we were freshman. She was on debate team, and it was love at first sight. We actually didn’t begin our relationship with John until after we were married. It started off as purely physical, but I quickly fell in love with John too. It took Eliza getting pregnant with Philip before any of us realized that our relationship could be more. We didn’t know who Philip‘s biological dad was, and it forced us to evaluate our relationship and the role that John would play in Philip’s life. Falling in love with Eliza and John wasn’t something I planned. It was something that happened, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

Aaron sat, thinking about Hamilton’s story, his explanation for his lifestyle. He sat there, sipping his water, even as Hamilton stood and walked back into the kitchen, brewing himself another cup of coffee. Hamilton was right, Aaron would never understand Hamilton’s lifestyle, in the same way that he perhaps would never understand why anyone was a Republican or why people rooted for the Red Sox. He wasn’t sneaking around behind his wife’s back; he wasn’t lying to anyone, and if Philip’s Harvard attendance meant anything, his kids were smart and well adjusted. Morally, Aaron didn’t agree, but was it his business what Hamilton did in his bedroom? It was clear that Hamilton was in love with both Eliza and John, and even if Aaron couldn't understand wanting to be in a relationship with two people, he could understand loving two people with the entirety of your heart. 

This knowledge gave him an advantage over Hamilton, even if Hamilton had damning knowledge in return. Aaron could recover, expose the years of abuse that happened to Theodosia at the hands of her husband, maybe even get his stepkids, the boys (who didn’t hate Aaron) to make statements. Hamilton would be unable to recover, not without throwing his _partner_ under the bus. He had the upper hand, the ability to ask for _anything_. 

“Fine,” Aaron found himself agreeing. “I’m not going to tell the world about your relationship,” the word itself felt heavy on his tongue. Like, despite everything, it was still just very wrong. “On one condition.” 

“Name it,” Hamilton bit back. Hamilton’s eye shifted. Aaron could tell that he was nervous. 

“I want the Vice Presidency,” Aaron said cooly, careful not to let his time betray his desperation. 

“Of course you do,” Hamilton chuckled. ““I don’t have a roster yet, considering that it’s possible I won’t even get past the primaries.” 

“You will,” Aaron said confidently. As much as he hated Hamilton as a human being, his policy and voting record was impeccable. And he had the platform that would sway the party, especially after the dumpster fire that was Trump.

“You know, and this is funny.” Hamilton barked out something between a fake laugh and a sigh. “You were on my list until three weeks ago when you had your little outburst, and it wasn’t because I like you as a human or a friend or anything. Your lack of opinions puts you on the good side of Republicans that don’t like Trump but probably aren’t ready for someone as radical as me.” 

“I have opinions,” Aaron argued. “I just don’t publicize them.” 

“You’re a Senator who somehow manages to not engage in politics.” Hamilton rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you what,” he continued. “I’ll put you back on the list, but I make no promises.”

“I can live with that,” Aaron agreed. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but it was doable. He could live with a high likelihood of becoming Vice President. “I don’t tell anyone about your family, you don’t tell anyone about mines, and I’m on your short list for VP. Is it a deal?” He extended his hand.

Hamilton, to Burr’s shock, shook it firmly. “It’s a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Want to murder me (I’ve been notified that hiring a hit man may still classify as murder and not assisted suicide)? 
> 
> Please leave a comment. They fuel even more than Mt. Dew (which isn’t much because I’m ADHD and it actually tends to calm me some).


End file.
